


Just a man and his will to survive

by Banbury



Series: The skill to survive [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Highlander: The Series, NCIS, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Gen, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 08:55:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18913678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banbury/pseuds/Banbury
Summary: People changes throughout their lives. It's natural. But sometimes these changes are not so natural, unexpected, frightening and strange dreams lead to the unpleasant awakenings. Though sometimes all the mess brings new job, new friendship and more as a result.The title is from the song "Eye of the Tiger" by "Survivor".





	Just a man and his will to survive

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [ART for "Just a Man and His Will to Survive" by banbury](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18807475) by [penumbria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/penumbria/pseuds/penumbria). 
  * Inspired by [ART for "Just a Man and His Will to Survive" by banbury](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18807475) by [penumbria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/penumbria/pseuds/penumbria). 



> This story is a part of a series that shapes up quite slowly. I was so glad to find an inspiration in the amazing art by penumbria that helped me to find a way to add Tony DiNozzo to my universe.  
> My heartfelt thanks to my beta nica575.

1.

“Anthony!”

He nods in acknowledgement being too busy scanning security camera’s footage on his state of the art notebook. He’s sure he’d caught something disturbingly familiar at one point and…

“Anthony!”, the insistence in the voice makes him reevaluate his priorities. A thought surfaces at the back of his mind - lately this particular name began to associate with friendship and safety much more than with self-loafing, hatred and fear. He is pleased.

“Professor?” 

“Sorry to interrupt you, but I fear some of your … friends? … are causing disruption in the public area…”  
He blinks slowly feeling a bit dizzy after spending so much time looking at the digital images and turns back to his equipment.

“Damn, I was sure I knew them, but there are so many people, couldn’t catch them for longer than a couple seconds”, Anthony sighs and calls for somebody to monitor security cameras in his place. He checks his weapon, knife and flask with the holy water before putting on the jacket of his Armani suit – casual enough not to attract unwanted attention, but of a quality that made even ignorant people think of him as a person in charge.

Professor arches his brow.

“What?... Oh, no, I don’t think there’ll be any trouble, not much anyway, just, you know, to be on the safe side”.  
Professor shrugs and gestures “after you”. Anthony sighs resignedly and opens the door to the main hall.

2.

McGee can’t help but shiver in dreadful anticipation. He’s been suffering that awful cowardly internal shiver since yesterday morning when Abby came up to the bullpen with the delusional story that one of her friends thought he had seen “her infamous Tony” at the concert last night. Tim watched as Gibbs tensed as a proverbial hound dog and then deliberately relaxed dismissing the story as a mistaken identity.

“And how do you think we’d be able to check the whole audience from the yesterday’s concert. It’s not as if…’  
“Oh, no Gibbs, you don’t understand. Tony hadn’t been in the audience. He played guitar on stage…” Abby smiled triumphantly and looked at the Senior Agent winningly. 

Gibbs blinked thoughtfully at it, nodded to himself and turned to McGee…

“Got it, boss, the name of the band, the band members, the venue, the schedule, tickets… I’m on it”, he glanced sideways to their current SIC – the guy didn’t acknowledge Gibbs’ order, didn’t raise his head and continued to work on their last case’s reports. 

McGee bit his lip. He liked this guy. He liked him despite his own constant attempts to prove to everybody he could be second in command, despite managing to drive away two previous SICs, despite… This Campbell guy somehow reminded him of Tony. They were nothing alike – irritating but loveable, all around good guy with the constant desire to help everybody Tony and this two meter Gibbs’-range-mute tough lawyer turned federal agent Samuel Campbell with the best sniper score marks ever seen in this agency – and still there was something in Sam that made Tim think of Tony every damn time. And made him remember… 

“Can I help you?”

Tim jumped and looked up at his co-worker. He somehow didn’t realize how much time he spent musing about things past. Samuel finished his work and now stood beside Tim’s table waiting patiently to be noticed. That was one of the traits – subtlety – that hadn’t been perfected by Tony during his times with the team. 

Tim glanced at the boss and nodded jerkily. 

“Thank you. Could you look into the band members? I have trouble finding any information on them, it seems as if they have information only on the lead singer and…” Tim hesitated and looked briefly towards Abby, who stubbornly sat at Tony’s former desk, “they don’t really show them in the music videos. Quite creatively I’d say, but still…”

“Sure.” Samuel, for all his authoritativeness, was always eager to help and do menial tasks – very much like Tony.

Gibbs nodded sharply and headed up to the director’s.

3\. 

Sam knew nothing about Gibbs’ team other than the name when he was presented with the opportunity to join them. He was warned of Gibbs’ character flaws, but knew he wouldn’t have any problem with the man considering the way he was raised – he knew his way around a marine, thank you very much. He didn’t realize though the team had so many problems with and around second in commands.

For the first couple of weeks Sam was too busy learning ins and outs of how the team worked to pay any attention to the strange sensation as if somebody was constantly lurking outside the view. The first time he registered it Sam nearly dove into his backpack to fish out the bottle of holy water he took with him everywhere, but when he didn’t register cold spots usually accompanying any ghostly manifestation he started to think.

He didn’t want to ask and he was really good at deciphering riddles (if he was to say so himself), but as time gone by he couldn’t come up with anything except the name “Tony” he imagined to hear now and then. 

The most Sam heard of it was right now when Abby stubbornly insisted on checking out some unknown band in search of that mysterious “Tony”. He was strangely excited to find out more.

There wasn’t anything. He sure easily enough found his way into fans’ discussion boards, YouTube channels with the fan-made videos, even security logs from some of the venues. The most he came up with were quite blurry images of everybody except the lead singer on the stage (it seemed deliberate on the band’s part though he couldn’t understand why they did it), letters like “D”, “M”, “T” in the security logs or in the discussions (and they sounded randomly chosen more than premeditated). 

Finally Sam relented and started digging into Tony’s … the “infamous Tony DiNozzo”, former Senior Field Agent … NCIS file. Retired due to medical conditions. Sam sighed – the list of the injuries was on par with that of Dean’s, - forced all thoughts about Dean deep down where they’d been before and focused on the guy’s face. That was a mistake. His eyes and the hidden smile were so much like Dean’s it was eerie and Sam shut the image quickly knowing he would recognize the man everywhere.

“Any luck?” McGee looked at him worriedly from behind his own desk and Sam shook his head.

“They seem to worry about the safety of the team members a bit too much. Even renting a house instead of staying at a hotel every damn time to avoid… I dunno… to avoid putting all the names on paper it seemed. But why? They can’t harbour a band of criminals on the run, can they?” The thought unnerved him all of a sudden. He drew a deep breath and looked at the clearest photo of the band he found earlier.

“That’s DiNozzo?” Samuel flinched when Gibbs pointed over his shoulder to one of the images on the screen, he didn’t see him behind.

The image was as blurred as the others but there was a hint of deep green in the eyes. Sam wouldn’t distinguish his brother from Tony by the eye colour only but there was something so achingly familiar in it… (“Might it be that one of the “D’s” was referred to DiNozzo or… Dean”, former hunter turned lawyer turned federal agent was strangely afraid to ask himself if he was ready to meet his estranged brother after the way they had parted years ago).

“I haven’t seen him before. How would I know?” Thankfully Gibbs realized it himself and squinted harder to make out subtle nuances.

“Damn it. We have to go see for ourselves. Where’s the next show?”

“A-at … Chicago, I think…” McGee hurriedly looked through the pages he printed out. “Yes, Chicago. The concert will take place tomorrow evening at the “Aragon” venue, mid-sized but quite a popular place. I‘m not sure we should treat them as a band, as they usually advertise as the lead singer and his backing musicians.”

“I’ve heard the singer is really good.” They almost forgot Abby was still lingering in the bullpen. “Not my cup-o-tea, but good with a big range and a right attitude. He was in some musical and built a bit of a name for himself, even went with the solo career for some time after that but then dropped off for nearly a year and now working his way back.”

Everybody regarded her with a slight startle.

“Yes, we know. The problem is…”

“I know you know. I just think you need to find out why he disappeared and then you might find he connection to others. I’ve watched videos last night. The members of the band are so suspiciously non-descript and behave in the very certain manner that reek of bodyguards.” She raised her eyebrows at their dumbfounded expressions. “What?!”

Sam looked over at frowning Gibbs, at McGee who seemed rather speechless, and at grim David, sighed and began flipping through the stills, seeing it quite clear now – just as Abby said.

4.

Gibbs winces at the burst of heavy sound whiffed from the half open doors. He paces the hall calling everybody he knew in the law enforcement to find somebody here, in Chicago, to help them to get into the venue, preferably back stage. For the umptieth time he gloomily remembers the ease with which Tony managed to do just that every damn time. 

It was one failure after another from the moment Abby got up in the bullpen yesterday morning. They didn’t recognize the pattern – not McGee, still green as the new spring grass after all these years; not David, being more an executor than an investigator; nor Campbell who was still new to the scene (though Gibbs grudgingly admitted to himself now and again that he was brilliant even on the level of Tony). Not even Gibbs himself. And it was disturbing. 

They couldn’t get tickets to the concert. There were no free tickets even at the club doors and the security – subtle to the extent of not being seen at all but tight and uncompromising, - didn’t melt at the sight of their badges and firmly let them know they have no right to go inside.

They are at impasse now.

David is shouting at the person in charge of security – a well-built man in his thirties with long dark hair in a ponytail and very intelligent eyes. Gibbs met his gaze once or twice and immediately felt the fellow soldier who saw everybody and everything, who assessed them the minute they stepped through the doors and might even knew why they were there.

McGee is staying by the far wall arguing fervently over the phone with probably Abby as Gibbs guessed with ninety percent surety. 

Only Campbell is behaving like the investigator that he is though the Senior Agent is sure he is the only one who doesn’t feel that burning need to find the former Senior Field Agent. And still he does his best. Gibbs looks over to find his second in Command approaching him with the hands full of the printed materials bought off of the shopping cart.

“Nothing about the band or administrative stuff. Not too suspicious, they have the name of their PR company and such, but still it’s unusual.” Campbell frowns at the booklet in his hands and shows the last pages that should’ve had all the necessary information.

Suddenly there’s a commotion over at the doors to the main hall of the club. Ziva David finally loses her patience and surges at the security chief and then there is a voice over all of it – firm, authoritative and sure.

“What is it? Agent David, step back and behave like an American law enforcement officer! Duncan, sorry, I should’ve recognized the problem earlier and relieved you. McGee, don’t imitate a fish out of water, take Ziva out of the building. Now Gibbs, what do ya want from me???”

5.

Tony takes a deep breath before stepping through the staff door into the hall. The cold at his back emanating from the ghostly figure of Snape feels reassuring and gives him confidence. He takes the whole picture in at one glance – Ziva is at her worst, Tim is attempting to merge with the environment, Gibbs is unfamiliar and unsure of himself in the middle of it all and the unknown man is at his shoulder, Tony’s former place, the only one behaving like the professional.

He shouldn’t be all that surprised they found him and descended like a flock of crows to peck the truth out of him though he’s not sure what truth they want to find here. The song starts beating in his head, the one from Adam’s older days, and he blurts at Gibbs – “What do ya want from me???”

He remembers his final days in NCIS as Gibbs wanted nothing from him, not even the explanation of what was happening with his Senior Field Agent, why he was quitting the job he had held onto with all his strength before. He remembers that pitch black hole inside that sucked all the energy, courage, vitality out of him, all his dreams and desires.

He should’ve recognized the unnaturalness of the whole situation at some point, and he would’ve if not for all the other circumstances, that it couldn’t all have happened only because of his sheer exhaustion, cases piled up high, overall grumpiness and unhappiness. It was quite usual for him to sleep badly while working hard, dreams being peppered with disturbing not-visions. That time there was that puzzling quality of realness to it.

6.

Tony clenched his hands once more and winced at the unfamiliar feeling in his palms – as if he spent the night on all fours running along gravel roads. There was also a vague memory of a slightly chilling night, air smelling of pines, and overgrown autumn grass in waiting for the rain.

He shuddered and quickly diverted his attention to the job at hand – it was unbecoming for the SIC to slack in the ongoing investigation. Also Tony lately felt strongly against Gibbs’ head slaps, not that he had any means to avoid them really. Every time he was on the receiving end he literally felt hackles rising on his skin and the urge to bare his teeth in not-so-silent warning.

Computer pinged loudly in the near-silent atmosphere of the very late-night bullpen at the same time as Gibbs’ hand connected with Tony’s skull. He couldn’t help himself. Tim and Ziva jumped in their sits and even Gibbs stepped back hearing the low growl that escaped Tony.

“Go home DiNozzo. You’re in no shape to work tonight. Be back at seven.” Gibbs returned to his desk and opened some files he brought earlier from the archive. Tony looked at him in disbelief, then took his backpack and left without a glance. He sensed a perplexed silence behind him, but this time he somehow didn’t feel the need to defend his action or usefulness.

Three days passed and nothing changed. Tony still felt beyond tired - unexplainable dreams disturbing his sleep more frequently and deep ache in his muscles wasn’t something to be sneezed at. He still worked hard to close the recent case, but the longer they couldn’t find any valuable trace the more detached from reality he became. It’s not that he didn’t want to find justice for all the lost persons they’d tried to recover, it’s just he was working his way through some kind of veil of fatigue on the verge of collapse.

“DiNozzo, wake up”, Gibbs didn’t sound gentle but there was a subtle hint of worry in his expression. 

Tony shook himself up and went back to gather evidence at the new crime scene. Something bothered him about the site but he couldn’t pinpoint it. That was the third time in two weeks they tried to find kids that have disappeared without a trace. All three times the core of the problem was not in the circumstances but in the victims. 

All children were adopted by large families with a lot of other children and all of them were extremely lonely, didn’t have proper relationship not only with parents but the fellow kids as well. It might not have been be that disturbing, if not for the children being with their adoptive families for at least three-four years. Nobody could stay this long in a tight circle of people in the day-to-day life and not get attached to at least one of them. These kids remained totally alone.

Gibbs divided the team into two parts. Ziva and McGee focused on the families, school situations and everyday life, Tony with Gibbs looked closer at the kids themselves.

The first child was taken into his deceased father’s cousin family. The said cousin was a marine and that how the team came into the picture. The kid was an ordinary one – scrawny ten years old with the love of comics’ heroes, especially Doctor Strange which was really strange as everybody else around rooted for Captain America and Iron Man. Asterix (absolutely unheard name for the rural America and the uncle blamed his late French mother for it) was known among others as being a very bookish person with vast knowledge of history, botany, and chemistry. He didn’t see eye to eye with anybody in the family or at school and all Tony was able to piece together emerged grain by grain from multiple sources.

The second kid, thirteen years old Brian, was an orphan with an unknown origin. He was found five years ago on the site of a huge car crash where ten cars piled up and burned – the kid had got amnesia and the authorities hadn’t been able to retrieve any samples from the wreckage to run any genetic search. The adoptive mother was crying quite unconvincingly while telling Tony and Gibbs of her attempts to reach ‘the stubborn kid’ and ‘insert’ him into the family, whatever she meant.

And now the girl.

Tony felt the headache drilling holes inside his skull. It was bad, the whole place reeked of something dangerous and disturbingly familiar. He couldn’t understand why nobody else was complaining. The agent tried to check everybody on the site discretely for anything unusual, but all of his teammates smelled and felt just the same and he sensed nothing more than a worry, a tiredness and a hint of fear from the local LEOs. 

Tony did a wider swipe of the territory around the last place the girl was seen. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for and didn’t have time to find out as this exact moment Gibbs called out to him.

“DiNozzo! Come here. We need to form a search party and comb the woods at the dawn.”

Tony blinked and took a deep breath trying for the last time to absorb that faint familiar-yet-unfamiliar sent and store in his head for the later investigation. He didn’t question his latest obsession with scenting everything. Yet. It was as if somewhere deep inside he recognized he’s not ready for this inquiry. 

7.

Tony flinched at the sound of a dry log snapping under someone’s feet. They were walking in expanding circles around that sleepy little town for several hours already without any success. The strange thing during the search was that nobody, not even the locals, found it strange not to discover at least some trail or even a footprint of an unknown origin. 

For the agent himself the most disturbing thing was that he couldn’t smell the very scent that had haunted him at the previous sites. Had he believed in fairy tales he would’ve said somebody waved a magic net around the place to catch the pursuers in it. 

He preferred not to think about fairies and tales.

Tony felt tired and sore after all the walking through the uneven terrain. He was sure everyone around him felt the same – eyes tended to skip over the surface paying attention only to the path ahead, ears listened to the call to stop the search. DiNozzo caught sight of his superior arguing heatedly with the sheriff. It seemed the examination was over.

Sheriff waved his hand indicating they should go back to town when Tony felt a stare that rested on his back. He didn’t sense malicious intent in it, just mild curiosity, but it was unnerving nevertheless.

He looked back under the disguise of retying his bootlaces. The low hanging branch trembled as if someone was hiding behind it thought there was nobody in sight – the woods were really too thin and transparent for anybody to hide. Tony stepped closer and shivered, hitting a cold spot out of nowhere.

He didn’t like all that strangeness that clang to the case. Didn’t like it one bit, especially that he was seemingly the only one who recognized it.

8.

Tony fell on the bed in his room as he was – still in his windbreaker, turtleneck, jeans and boots. He was in no shape to get up and get into the shower, too tired to even eat, though he craved some raw burger just right now like crazy – the bigger one the better. With this wired thing going on with him he was somehow double tired, as if he had to operate on two levels at once – be a trained investigator that he had perfected long time ago and maintain his newly discovered ability to smell and hear better.

He thought lazily he should eat at least something and that he really needed to have a shower. Then on the very verge between dream and wakedness he said to himself something like ‘that scent feels awfully like I smell when I dream about something I don’t remember like a run and a stretch of the land before me and when I’m so tired in the morning that it’s easier to close my eyes…’

The next thing Tony sensed or felt - he wasn’t really aware of his own feelings, - was that unmistakable sensation of being in the open air. He was still overly tired but this feeling was overridden by the other one – the sense of freedom, possibilities and wants. He stretched, yawned and trotted down the road towards the sound of the stream, he was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to eat and drink something.

The sensation split his mind in two halves. On the one hand these newly found needs were perfectly normal and even suitable for the situation of being too tired, hungry and frustrated. On the other hand he felt like he had two sets of feelings and couldn’t pinpoint which ones were his and which ones were… not his…

At that point Tony felt the headache creeping upon him unexpectedly and stopped trying to untangle the mess inside his head. He needed to get it all straight in order to determine what to do next.

The quiet but unmistakable sound of the cocked trigger penetrated his thoughts. Tony turned sharply in the direction of the sound but suddenly lost his balance and toppled to his right. 

It was wrong. Something was wrong. Something happened with his legs. Had he been injured during that mad dash through the woods earlier? Tony wasn’t sure. He didn’t remember any difficulties other than necessity to dodge branches on the run. But he couldn’t keep balance and it was too real. 

Also there was something strange with his legs.

With his …

Tony looked down but he couldn’t do it right. With this gesture he somehow managed to bump his own nose into his own leg – he never was that flexible even in his best days! And the stranger sensation – he felt fur under his nose. And he saw fur as soon as he found the more convenient position to take a look. 

Tony lifted his head and looked around. Night - checked. Forest around – checked. Cool breeze – checked. Four legs – chec… Checked? Four fur legs? Tony span around himself but there was the same picture from the other angles as well. He opened his mouth to call for Gibss, for… for anybody to be reassured and heard a weak howl from his own throat.

“Here you are”, the sound of the cocked trigger sounded right behind him and a deep, a little bit hoarse though satisfied male voice called from above.

9.

Dean wasn’t sure how he was able to distinguish a regular wolf from the Were, he just could. To tell the truth he didn’t really try to understand it thinking of it as a mercy from the unnamed gods to help in his job. And these days the hunting seemed harder as he had to do it alone, so any little help was appreciated.

The hunter stretched discreetly still feeling all the bruises from his struggle with the vengeful spirit the other day and looked closer at the Were before him. On one hand it was as ordinary a Were as one could find on a hunt. It was a bit smaller than he usually encountered indicating it was a bitten one, not naturally born. The long thick fur was of a mesmerizing deep brown color with golden flecks on the surface and reddish undertones in the depth. The most amazing part was Were’s eyes. Dean has never seen such a pretty shade of green eyes on the Werewolves.

He was sure he would find here some stray Werewolf the moment he caught a story of missing kids. Something in all the articles suggested the work of a more or less sentient creature and a bitten Were definitely hit the spot.

The place was crowded with the police and Dean wasn’t sure at first he would be able to do his research. To his delight there were two types of police here – regular one and sort of military (he preferred not to look too close into the police matters) and they were constantly arguing and trying to settle jurisdictions. The hunter used these arguments to go unnoticed and do his own survey. 

All things considered he determined the Were was somewhere amidst the police force- one or another. All he needed to do now was to lie in waiting when the creature will surface to go on the next hunting trip.

Dean was in luck. Not even three days later he stood behind his target ready to shoot.

That same moment Were toppled to his right trying to turn to him and Dean almost spat in disgust. The creature was so young it was wet behind the ears – it couldn’t even sort his own legs out and make a conscious step and he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to make coherent plans and abduct a kid.

Okay, young or not a Were is always a Were and the world would be safer with one more dead rather than alive.

10.

“Stop it right now”.

The new participant sounded just like Tony’s uncle – clipped, sort of detached British voice. Tony wasn’t sure the new addition to the situation will give him any advantage and he was afraid to turn away from the Hunter however tempting it was to see the other person with his own eyes and to be reassured that he wouldn’t be shot at a single twitch of his tail (‘tail’, he moaned helplessly inside his head still not being able to understand what he has become). 

So, he stayed put eyeing this larger than life man in his thirties with the manners of a seasoned warrior and pretty green eyes. 

The Hunter lifted said eyes to the newcomer though his aim remained steady. There was quite a strange expression on his face – annoyance melted into incomprehension into bewilderment into puzzle into annoyance once again and Tony found it all not particularly reassuring.

“Lower your weapon and step back. Don’t you see you’re scaring him”.

“For the love of… Who are you to talk about werewolf’s feelings? Do they even capable of having feelings?” The last word the Hunter almost spat towards the new interlocutor.

“There are Werewolves and werewolves though even the most gone creatures have feelings however basic they might be.” 

Tony swallowed and tried to adopt the most innocent look he could master.

The hunter’s eyes followed the other man warily. Tony was still afraid of looking anywhere other than at the gun so he strained his ears to follow the other’s progress with his acute hearing. He didn’t hear anything. He didn’t know how much time has passed until he saw someone sliding before the Hunter.

Something.

Someone.

There was something wrong with the other person. Tony was sure he heard nothing from him – neither footsteps nor the sound of the dressing gown (who the heck wears a dressing gown to the forest?!) bellowing in the wind. Also Tony was sure there was something wrong with his eyes – he was able to sort of see through the other person. Not very clear, more like the person was slightly foggy, but he could.

He…

“Hey!” The hunter suddenly produced another gun, bulkier one - just like a sawed off rifle, and pointed at the newcomer. “You are the ghost!”

That provided to be too much even for Tony.

The last feeling was the sensation of falling to the ground. 

11.

“Sev, you shouldn’t go out alone and with the hunters around it’s just plain stupid.” The new British voice penetrated the fog around Tony’s mind and he cautiously opened his eyes a bit. Everything seemed to be the same – he was lying on the ground, the ghost guy was hovering above the hunter, the new-ish guy… 

Hey, the hunter was lying on the ground bound with some thick ropes and with the handkerchief in his mouth. Judging by the movement of his eyes it seemed he cursed everybody and everything to the seven winds.

Tony felt such a profound relief that he jumped to his feet only to find himself first, quite unsteady and second (may be first) totally naked and shivering. The earth rushed towards him one more time and he met with it with the sickening thud in the vicinity of his shoulder.

“Oh, Merlin!” The newish guy darted towards him and tried to lift him with the reassuringly warm solid hands. “How are you? Let’s make sure your shoulder is okay…”

“The hunter?...” Tony’s voice sounded too weak and not a bit afraid.

“The hunter?” Young man, the newish guy definitely was the youngest of them all though his grey eyes spoke of too many unpleasant experiences and profound sorrows, looked at him and shrugged. “We’ll talk to him and he’ll come around as soon as we deal with you.”

“With?... Oh! Please, just let me go and I won’t bother you ever again.” Tony hadn’t been concerned if he sounded weak, frightened, inexperienced – he was frightened, weak, inexperienced and above all he wanted to be as far away from here, from these crazy people, from his unexplainable metamorphosis and even from Gibbs, as he could.

“Let…?” The young man looked at him with great concern. “You don’t understand! You need our help, you wouldn’t know what to do with your abilities unless we teach you.”

“Abilities?! I don’t need these abilities, I don’t want these abilities!” Tony, who always prided himself with a cool head and quick thinking in every single situation, felt heading into a full blown hysteria but he could care less.

The strangest sensation of being on the receiving end of the ghost slap on his cheek shut him up. It felt absolutely unreal – like a piece of cold slightly damp air thrown at his face.

The ghost stood slightly above him and looked down with unreadable expression. “Professor Snape, at your service.” The ‘at your service’ bit sounded a bit insincere but the whole figure looked impressive and Tony felt calmness overtaking him and making him look at the situation through the eyes of the investigator. 

“I am… in the situation? I mean, what am I? What abilities are you talking about? You really mean that I am… I am…” Tony trailed off and surveyed people around him.

Everybody looked way too serious, even the hunter regarded him with the pitying expression, spat the kerchief out and nodded. “You are Werewolf. I take it you didn’t realize it yourself, I mean how would you know, but you should remember if somebody bit you lately…”

“I… I… nobody…” Tony trailed off remembering suddenly the homeless guy who they found at the crime scene gathering cigarette butts, he did bit him for all the troubles of bringing him to a free clinic. Tony was the butt of Ziva’s thoughtless jokes for days on end.

“There was that homeless guy…”

“Sometimes they don’t know themselves they are infected, it might not even manifest if the carrier is too weak. And sometimes the infection takes time to manifest itself if the carrier is too strong. How long ago…?” Professor said it in clipped precise tone but Tony heard the hint of compassion behind it and he was grateful.

“Three weeks, I think, sort of.”

“You should go with us!” 

“Draco?!”

“He should go with us, Sev! We could help him and here he would just be the prey of the hunters.” The young man, apparently named Draco, jerked his head towards the hunter who tried to wriggle out of his bounds.

“But I can’t! I’m a Senior Field Agent with NCIS, I have responsibilities, I can’t leave my people!” Professor arched his eyebrow and Tony shut up. He suddenly imagined himself turning into a wolf in the middle of the bullpen and it felt nauseating. He knew he didn’t have a choice. And, frankly, he wasn’t happy with his life for a long time now…

He lifted his head and looked at the dimming stars in the morning sky. What would he choose – to be a dead wolf or an experienced man with some unusual abilities. For all he knew these people they might all be hunters and lure innocent would-be-Werewolves into a trap. He snickered at the thought and looked at his unlikely saviors…

“I will go with you. But I can’t disappear just like that, I need a couple of days to put things in order, to resign…”

Professor lowered his head and looked at Draco.

“Your phone, please.” He took Tony’s phone and quickly taped several digits in it. “Here’s my number, call us as soon as you are ready and we’ll arrange a meeting.”

Tony swallowed past the limp in his throat, “Thank you.”

He looked past Draco at the hunter.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him…”

12.

Tony snickers, remembering the look Dean gave him hearing these words, but it’s not the time to reminisce. He straightens looking at his former colleagues. They stay here speechless and moody, even Ziva stepped away from Duncan and closer to Gibbs and is looking at him with quite an alarming expression.

“So? Gibbs, what do you want from me?”

Duncan is hiding his smirk and disappearing back into the main hall. 

Tony is waiting. He didn’t vanish from them without explanation, he even called Ducky from time to time to reassure his friend of his whereabouts. He just doesn’t understand why they are here, what do they want from him. He feels his Wolf trying to surface and holds him down firmly.

Gibbs looks at him long and hard as if trying to read his face … what? Tony looks back. He’s calm – he has nothing to hide from his … friends. He pushes his Wolf deeper down. Almost nothing.

Gibbs suddenly nods to him, turns around – “Let’s go, people” – and disappears into the street. Tim and Ziva follow him without a word and only the new guy turns his head before leaving the club and looks at Tony with the odd light in his eyes, as if he suspects something. Tony looks back.

13.

They have to spend the night in the city. Their plane leaves in the morning and Gibbs doesn’t sleep, waiting for the sun to come up. He thinks he sensed something weird from Tony but he doesn’t have anything tangible to base his suspicions on, so he lets it go. For now.

Breakfast is a quiet affair. McGee apparently wants to ask something but doesn’t dare. Ziva is as unreadable as always. Gibbs thinks his Second in Command didn’t sleep either but doesn’t question him. Everyone deals with seeing healthy and apparently happy Tony in their own way.

Just before they settle in their rented car he feels the gaze on his back. Campbell, who is yet to get into the car, looks up and Gibbs follows his gaze.

There’s a four stories high industrial looking building on the other side of the street. Somebody is standing on the roof. Gibbs squints to see clearer – there’s a man (he can’t say if it’s Tony or not but somehow he thinks not) with a dog. There’s something odd with the dog. It moves closer to the edge and Gibbs sees in the rays of the rising sun - a man and a wolf.

**Author's Note:**

> There are several fandoms I'm using in this series (and there will be more later on), so I didn't even try to use canon time-lines, it's absolutely an Alternative Universe with it's own time-line, but I will make references to the canon events.  
> All the fandoms and its characters are not mine, just borrowed.


End file.
